


Heatseeker

by 51stCenturyFox



Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crossover, Dancing, Developing Relationship, First Dance, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Other, POV: Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/51stCenturyFox/pseuds/51stCenturyFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“God, he <i>is </i>old, huh?” Johnny said. draping an arm around Tony again. “Dude, it’s not even late, and it’s Friday night.” And Steve decided then that he was going. Screw this jerk Storm, or Torch, or whatever he called himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heatseeker

**Author's Note:**

> Big beta thank-yous to [neifile7](http://archiveofourown.org/users/neifile7), [copperbadge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge), and [gypsylady](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsylady).

“So yeah, it’s good. Really good, but we could reinforce some areas. Gonna need to, actually, if this is going to work for the other application,” Tony was saying when Steve found him in the workshop. He wasn’t alone; a man dressed in a snug blue jumpsuit stood in front of him, and Tony’s hands rested on the sides of his trim waist. Tony leaned forward then, draping himself over the man’s back to wrap his hands around to splay over his chest, and let out a throaty groan. “Sweet god, you’re so hot.”

Steve froze in the doorway with his bag in one hand, and when his presence wasn’t remarked upon, cleared his throat. “You uh, wanted these?”

Tony craned his neck around and loosened his grip on of the man he was groping. “Steve! I texted you what...an hour ago?”

“I was in the gym,” Steve replied, as if the damp t-shirt and shorts he was wearing weren’t a dead giveaway.

“At almost midnight?”

“Well, you’re working now. If whatever you’re doing down here is working,” Steve pointed out.

“You don’t take your phone when you-- oh, never mind,” Tony sighed. “So. Steve Rogers, meet Johnny Storm,” he said, pinching jumpsuit’s waist before waving an arm. “And that’s Barney Rubble.”

Steve startled at the movement from the corner of the room. He hadn’t noticed a man there, but he seemed to be, well...

“Pleased to meet you, Barney,” Steve said as he approached, and Johnny snickered.

“It’s actually _Ben_ ,” the man said, awkwardly setting down a mug held between two fists and giving Tony a dirty look before extending a huge, misshapen hand, and Steve shook it politely. It felt exactly like stone, matching his literally craggy appearance, but in truth, he wasn’t any stranger-looking than the Hulk, and Steve was used to that. “Name’s Ben Grimm. Tony’s havin’ fun.”

Steve turned to the man in the jumpsuit. “So what’s your real name?”

Jumpsuit met his eyes. “It’s really Johnny Storm. Or Torch, if you want.”

“Huh,” Steve said. “Sounds like something Stark made up.”

Johnny gave him a smirk as Tony’s eyes flitted between them. “Tony does think I’m hot,” he said.

“This is uncanny. Stand together,” Tony said, grabbing Steve’s arm guiding him next to Storm. “You two really could be twins.”

“Except I’m younger,” Johnny said.

“Everybody’s younger than Cap, technically,” Tony said, pulling Storm forward and gripping his arms. “Jesus, Steve, you oughta feel this guy.”

Steve frowned and scratched his jaw.

“No, I mean, his sheer body warmth.” Tony leaned in, pressing his chest against Johnny’s as he folded his arms around his waist, and Storm gamely wrapped his arms around him in return. “He’s like a cuddly toaster oven.”

“He’s like a pain in the ass,” Ben grumbled. “Have to turn on the air conditioning if he sits next to ya in the car too long.”

“Torch is for Human Torch,” Storm said as Tony removed himself from his arms. He snapped his fingers and produced a flame, then blew it out with a wink at Steve. “Radiation mutation. I can fly, too.” Steve vaguely remembered seeing some briefing notes on these guys. There were two others, too. Not affiliated with SHIELD, but in the database, anyhow.

“He got fireball power and I ended up like this. Life ain’t fair,” Grimm said.

“Aww, you want a hug too, Rocky?” Tony asked.

“Pass,” Ben replied, picking up a tablet on the desk and peering at the screen.

“Gently!” Tony said with alarm. “It’s a prototype. You know, I could make you one that projects. No smooth surfaces to scratch up.”

“Relax, Einstein, I won’t bust up your toys.” Ben set the tablet down and turned to Johnny. “We almost done here?”

“Wait up,” Tony said, holding his hand out to Steve and making a ‘gimme’ gesture. “Got those clothes?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing over the bag. Tony passed it to Johnny, and Johnny set it on a stool and began stripping out of the skin-tight jumpsuit. Steve averted his eyes just as he realized Tony definitely _wasn’t_ following suit, but he could tell that Johnny was pulling on the gray sweatshirt and matching running pants he’d brought down.

“Thanks, man,” Johnny said, knuckling Steve on the arm.

Tony slapped Johnny’s ass. “Look at that perfect...fit.”

“They’re sweatpants, Tony,” Steve muttered as Tony and Johnny headed over to another workstation with the jumpsuit, and then turned to Ben. “Brooklyn?”

The man smiled. “Yeah. You know, I heard stories about you since I was a kid. Local hero and all. Well, national hero, so I guess everybody’s heard about you, but ya know what I mean.”

Steve shook his head modestly, but discussion turned to the borough and he and Ben had a good chat about the best places to get a beer. Even though Steve couldn’t get drunk anymore, he liked a good beer, and he’d always liked a good neighborhood tavern, too; they’d always been good places to sit and observe people he could draw later. He found that he enjoyed getting to know Ben, and talking to him was a welcome distraction from Tony’s various exclamations and Storm’s laughter behind him, which he managed to ignore.

“Cap. _Cap_ ,” Tony said finally, sounding exasperated, and Steve turned.

“Yeah?”

“Get cleaned up. We’re going clubbing.”

“We’re what?” Steve asked.

“I’m taking you boys out.. New afterparty place opening in an hour and there’s a VIP room. You up for it, Stonehenge?”

“You’re an asshole, Stark. And I have to pick my girlfriend up at LaGuardia. She hates nightclubs,” Ben rumbled. 

“Sorry, Ben. Seriously. But there are just so many endless nickname possibilities with you. What unimaginative motherfucker came up with ‘The Thing’?”

Ben pointed to Storm.

“Figures. Stonehenge would have been badass. Hey, maybe we’ll find _you_ a girlfriend tonight,” Tony said to Steve, poking him in the chest. “Get spiffed up. Shirt and jacket, no tie. Jeans, not khakis.”

“I’m pretty bushed,” Steve protested, with a grimace at Tony’s instructions. He wasn’t twelve years old, for pete’s sake. He could pick out his own clothing, That is, if he was planning on joining them, and he wasn’t.

“God, he _is_ old, huh?” Johnny said. draping an arm around Tony again. “Dude, it’s not even late, and it’s Friday night.” And Steve decided then that he was going. Screw this jerk Storm, or Torch, or whatever he called himself.

“Alright. Fine. Let me get cleaned up,” Steve said.

“Great!” Tony looked delighted. “Happy can give you a lift to the airport and back to your place, Ben, and as for you, Hot Stuff,” he elbowed Johnny, “he’ll drop you off on the way and you can get prettier, and we’ll meet you downtown.”

Ben nodded and donned a fedora, and Johnny followed him out after exchanging a complicated high-five with Tony.

“Well?” Tony looked at Steve. “Meet you in half an hour, and we’ll party down.”

Steve nodded and retreated to his suite upstairs, regretting his decision already.

*

He showered and shaved quickly, Army-style, and looked through his closet, grabbing a dark blue suit and white shirt, then laying them on the bed. He did have jeans, but Steve wasn’t wearing dungarees for a night on the town, no matter what Tony Stark said. As if on cue, a rapping at the door came before Tony. “Hey, hurry up.”

“I’m almost ready,” Steve said, hands on his boxer-clad hips, and regarded Tony, who was wearing a dark red shirt, black jacket, jeans, and black boots, along with red-lensed sunglasses. Tony lowered the shades and shook his head at the clothing Steve had laid out.

“No. Nope. You need...” Tony disappeared into the walk-in closet and returned with a black shirt.

“I don’t think that matches...” Steve wrinkled his brow.

“Yes, it does. It matches now. It’s in fashion,” Tony assured him, and Steve decided not to argue. Tony wasn’t listening anyway; he was tapping away at his transparent smartphone.

Steve tossed away the towel around his shoulders and searched for a pair of socks in his bottom drawer. He heard a smothered exclamation and turned his head, but Tony’s attention was focused on his screen. Steve dressed quickly and threaded a black belt through his trouser loops, then dug out black dress shoes and grabbed his wallet.

Tony pocketed his phone and gave him a look of frank appraisal. “Hot. Somber but sexy. Just...” he reached out a hand and messed up Steve’s hair on top.

“Hey!” Sexy. Well, that was a good thing if they were going to a nightclub, Steve supposed.

“Trust me,” Tony said, and Steve shrugged as he trailed him to the elevator. He had a comb in his pocket, anyway.

*

Tony kept glancing his way on the drive to the club. Steve pointed back at the road every time, and Tony rolled his eyes. Tony tossed the keys to the white convertible to a valet, and a woman at the door unfurled a velvet rope barrier and let them in ahead of the people in the line wrapping the block, to protesting groans and loud whispers about Tony Stark.

The club was...well the club reverberated with too many people and too much noise, and the kind of thumpy bass-laden music Steve had tried to like when Clint cranked up the sound in the gym, but really barely tolerated. He plastered a benign expression on his face when Tony turned around. He wasn’t about to be the killjoy he was accused of being on a daily basis.

Tony raised a hand towards a gaggle of people at the bar and Johnny Storm matched Tony’s gesture and waved them over, but Steve hung back. “You go on,” Steve said, and Tony gave him a frown but beelined for Storm while a passing cocktail waitress took Steve’s beer order. He watched the crowd for a while, sipping from his glass after tossing out the lime perched on the rim, before a pretty young blonde woman joined him. She was on the short side, but wearing a lot of eye makeup, skyscraper shoes, a short red dress, and some kind of furry vest. Her name was Annie or something; given the room’s volume it was tough to converse, but Steve tried anyway.

Soon, he felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Tony, who angled his head towards a doorway. “VIP lounge. Bring her, too.”

They followed, and the room they ended up in was, thankfully, less crowded and slightly less chaotic. Steve collapsed onto a tiny, curved loveseat, and Tony joined him, leaving Annie, Johnny, and a voluptuous woman in white with raven-colored hair who’d been hanging on Johnny’s arm to take the velvety poufs across the low, round table. Annie crossed her ankles demurely. Introductions took place, but Steve promptly forgot the other woman’s name, which had nothing to do with the fact that Tony was gripping his knee and running circles over the side with his thumb.

“Drinks?” Tony quizzed the table, then gestured at a server. “Drinks. Should we just get a couple of bottles?”

Steve bit his lip to keep from saying something like, “Really, Tony?” because Tony had probably had half a bottle’s worth already, but Storm shook his head and ordered something for all of them, gesturing around the table. Tony and Storm were laughing it up over something, and the women were having a conversation of their own, leaving Steve to lean forward and try to find a place to jump in.

The server returned with eight shots on a tray, and after they were placed on the table, Johnny snapped his fingers and lit them all on fire. Tony toasted him, blew his drink out, and downed it before handing one to Steve.

Steve stared at the flaming shot glass, then blew it out and drank half of it, then cleared his throat. “Huh. Geez, that’s sweet.”

“Isn’t it?” Johnny winked at him, blew on his finger, and toasted the young women; he’d switched chairs to sit between them.

“Pumpkin Pies, they’re called,” Tony leaned into Steve’s ear. “Wrong season for it.” And Tony’s hand still warming his knee as he leaned forward to flirt with the brunette was just...it was something that made the hairs on his flesh prickle in a not-unpleasant way but it was also kind of...confusing.

_”Is Tony...” he’d started to ask Natasha one evening at a holiday party when Tony was dancing with some guy, but Natasha had shrugged and stolen a piece of ice out of Steve’s cola._

_“Spaghetti’s straight too, until you get it wet. And hot,” she said cryptically, and walked away with another ice cube just as Tony caught Steve’s eye and winked._

“Are you guys twins?” Annie asked with a glance at Johnny. “You know I’m one, right?”

“Nope,” Steve said. “So, do you, uh, like it? I mean, do you like being...um, a twin? Are you identical?” Annie rolled her eyes and Steve could feel Tony’s pitying look. So he wasn’t good at talking up the dames like Storm apparently was; nobody was perfect. After a while Steve just gave up trying to make conversation and ordered a Coke, listening to snatches of talk across the table under the loud music with a forced smile plastered on his face. He disappeared to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, but it was really just to kill time. When he came back and sat, Tony gave him a smile. At least _he_ was enjoying the night out.

“Well, I don’t know about you bitches,” Johnny said, getting to his feet and straightening his leather jacket. “But I feel like dancing.” Steve was offended on behalf of Annie and whatsername, but realized that Johnny had been speaking to him and to Tony and the women weren’t even listening; they had finished their shots and laughing about something among themselves. “Coming?”

“We have to get up tomorrow,” Tony demurred, squeezing Steve’s leg, where his hand had been resting again. “Do anything I would do.” Steve watched as Johnny extended both arms and the women each hooked theirs into them, and they headed back to the main club.

“Let’s go home,” Tony murmured close to his ear, and Steve nodded. Home sounded really good.

Home sounded perfect.

*

“Thanks,” Steve said when Tony offered him the driver’s seat as the valet pulled up. He’d had the three drinks, but they were out of his system already, he knew. He took a deep breath of fresh spring nighttime air before sliding behind the wheel. Well, air as fresh as it got in the city, which was a cut above the clash of expensive perfumes in the club.

“You can drive this baby whenever, you know,” Tony told him as the Spyder’s roof retracted and Steve adjusted his seat. “Or you can take a different car out for errands when you need to. I don’t mind. Mi casa...or auto...what’s Spanish for car?”

“Coche, I think. No, I mean, thanks for making an excuse. I know you like to dance.”

Tony turned, then faced forward again. “Yeah, I do.”

“Thanks for passing that up, then. I wasn’t having too much fun.”

“It wasn’t, though,” Tony said, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head. “It wasn’t an excuse. I have tickets for the game tomorrow. Or today, actually. This afternoon. The Dodgers are in town playing the Mets in Flushing.”

Steve moved the seat back again slightly. “Oh.”

“Only if you wanted to. I just thought you might enjoy...”

“No. Yes. I would,” Steve said. “I definitely would.”

Tony gave him a catlike smile. “Good. That’s good. Great. So...sorry Tabasco stole your date. Which Olson twin was it?”

“Huh? Uh, Annie?”

“Ashley.” Tony pulled up a couple of images on his phone and showed them to Steve at the stoplight. “Ashley and Mary-Kate. Famous. Used to be child actors.”

“Wow, she’s gotta be young, then,” Steve said.

“She’s not. She’s your age,” Tony shook his head. “Or close to it.”

Steve glanced at his hands on the wheel as they moved forward in the light early-morning traffic. Tony hadn’t even turned the car stereo on. “Sometimes I do feel old. The movies I like, the music. I can’t even...dance. I don’t really feel like I fit in anywhere, sometimes.”

Tony gave a soft laugh. “Sometimes I think I’m too old for the club, like Chris Rock said, and then I remember I’m me, so that phrase doesn’t actually apply.”

Steve smiled. Tony was Tony. He fit in anywhere he wanted to.

“Do you want to?” Tony asked.

“Want to what?”

“Fit. I mean, fit in with Johnny, and Ashley, people your age, that crowd. You just need to go out more and get used to the scene, make some friends who aren’t, well, us.”

Steve shrugged and put on his turn signal to hang a left on 42nd. “I don’t think I do. Want to do that, actually.”

“You should have a girlfriend. If Ben can get a girlfriend, then, you know. The guy is made of stone, for fuck’s sake.”

Steve waited as the barrier to the garage under their building rose, and drove down the ramp, pulling the convertible into the spot nearest the elevator.

“Come up,” Tony nudged his shoulder as they walked toward it. “You’re not tired.”

Steve wasn’t, actually. He was just relaxed now that he didn’t have to pretend to enjoy himself in a noisy nightclub. “But you said we were going to a game.”

“After four,” Tony said. “The only other thing I need to do tomorrow is start on upgrading your suit.”

Steve squinted at him. “My suit?”

“Yeah. Not this.” Tony tugged at his lapels. “The spangly one. Bring it down whenever you wake up. I’m analyzing some of the elastomer stuff in Johnny’s and adding it to your fabrication. It’s good for hazards, especially fire. Reed’s too busy to do it, and I thought...”

“Wow, sure,” Steve said quickly. “That’s great.” The elevator stopped at Tony’s floor; Steve hadn’t realized that it had gone past his, and Tony stepped aside to let him walk out first.

“Stay for one drink,” Tony said. “Cool?”

“Okay,” Steve agreed, pulling off his suit jacket and laying it on the back of a chair as Tony made for the bar.

“Flaming Pumpkin Pie?” Tony offered with a lifted brow, and Steve laughed.

“No thank you. Beer?”

“I definitely have beer,” Tony said, and pulled out two bottles, flipped the caps off, handed one to Steve, and they clinked them briefly and tilted them back. “So, I heard you say that you can’t dance?”

Steve almost choked on his imported lager. “Yeah, I...I don’t really know how.”

“Club-style or slow dancing?”

“Any dancing, really. I’ve watched people, obviously, but it’s different when you have to do it with somebody else and put your hands in the right place and not step on their feet, and things like that.”

Tony gave him an appraising look. “But you’re so agile in combat. You’re probably a natural.”

Steve lowered his bottle; he could feel his face heat up. “I’ve tried, in the mirror.”

“By yourself?” Tony frowned. “That’s just sad.”

“I know. I know it is,” Steve said, as Tony programmed something into the virtual keyboard set into the table and music started to play.

"“Come on, soldier,” Tony said, now on his feet, the bottle set aside. The song was slow, and Steve was relieved it wasn’t the club stuff. He wasn’t in the mood for more of that.

“Is this a new song?” Steve asked, hesitating a bit, even as Tony took his hands and positioned one around his waist, the other folded into his own. The singer was crooning something about always and forever, being just like a dream.

“Nah, but it’s a classic.” Steve matched Tony’s rhythm, and this, well, this was pretty easy, copying Tony’s moves. “Now you lead,” Tony prompted, suddenly going limp and still, and Steve laughed next to his ear. No wonder it had been so simple. He dithered for a moment, but quickly picked up the slow tempo again and turned them as they moved. “See, you’re a natural,” Tony said softly.

“I am?” This was a slower song than he’d seen Tony dancing to at the Christmas party. It was probably an easy one on purpose, since Steve was a beginner, after all.

“Yeah,” Tony confirmed, “Or a fast learner, anyway. JARVIS, loop this.” The song began to fade out, and then restarted, and they swayed to the tune. Tony did smell a bit like expensive cologne, Steve thought, but more like Tony himself. He hadn’t realized how much he liked that scent.

“I like this better,” Steve said, after Tony dropped their joined hands and slid the free one over Steve’s other shoulder, bringing them closer, and Steve was reminded of every tiny touch Tony had given him tonight, and before tonight: sliding his pinky finger alongside his in a briefing, which had made him jump, leaning over his shoulder while he drew Natasha once on the balcony. It was tough to draw with someone watching his charcoal moving across the page like that, but he’d concentrated on smudging lines and slowed down, because he didn’t want Tony to move away.

“Yeah? The song? The dancing?” Tony asked, breath whispering along his jaw. “Which?”

“Both. With you, anyway,” Steve admitted, tightening his grip for a moment.

“You do?” Tony said, lacking his customary confidence for once.

Steve turned them. “Yep. This beats that club.” He could feel Tony shiver under the hand wrapped around his back. “You cold?”

“No,” Tony laughed softly.

“I’m not a human torch or a toaster or anything,” Steve pointed out.

“I wasn’t joking. You should hug that guy sometime, because it’s freaky. But you’re...this is much better,” Tony said. He heard Tony swallow as the song started over again, and Steve made no move to pull away. “I’d rather dance with you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Would you?” Steve asked, uncertain.

“There are a lot of things I’d rather do with you,” Tony said, leering a little. “Besides, sex with Johnny Storm would probably be like sticking your dick in an autoclave.”

Steve choked out a shocked laugh. “So classy, Tony.”

Tony smirked. “Aww, you know you like it.”

“God help me, I suppose I do,” Steve said, leaning in to take the lead again, just to show he could.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from ACDC's Heatseeker, obviously. :)
> 
> The song Tony and Steve are (still) dancing to is [Always and Forever](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0fBACHaBck) by Heatwave.


End file.
